Your conscience caught you leaving the sceneThere's no knowing just how clever you've beenIt's a long way home when that voice that taunts you is your ownAnd your laughter is a veil of gracehiding tears that glisten from your facein any caseWell it's all a dreamfrom the solitude of prayers unseento the crimes of the centuryNothing's really ever how it seems...do you like it like that?